


Planet of the Disney Apes – Five Apocalypses and one Christmas Day

by Squickqueen



Category: Rise of the Planet of the Apes (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Fanverse, Gen, Humor, I wanted to write a Christmas story but of course it's a silly one, Planet of the Disney Apes, Silly, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28291770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squickqueen/pseuds/Squickqueen
Summary: Christmas shenanigans :'D
Kudos: 2





	Planet of the Disney Apes – Five Apocalypses and one Christmas Day

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Planet of The Disney Apes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21305186) by [MackDreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MackDreamer/pseuds/MackDreamer). 



> Merry Christmas fellow PotA fans and a big shout-out to [Talimee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talimee) for proofreading another one of my, errr, artistic accidents!

It was the 24th of December.

Snow had started to fall last night and was still gently floating from the sky in thick white flakes. Would it stop before the whole city was smothered in layers and layers of crystalline coldness? It didn't look like it would.

A diorama of snow-covered rooftops, cars, trees, and streets. It was a truly romantic sight, as long as one could snuggle up inside their parlor, preferably with a cup of hot tea in one hand and warm slippers on one's feet.

Caesar shivered and stifled a sneeze. Apes didn't like the cold, and the mere sight of the snow-covered city was enough to give him phantom frostbite.

Thankfully, it was pleasantly homey in the spacious parlor on the 3rd floor. A fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace, which was only used during December, while thick carpets muffled every step. Boughs of holly decorated the walls and ceiling, strings of lights stretched from chandelier to chandelier, and you couldn't take a step without spotting cherubs, playful reindeer, shining stars, and fat Santas.

And the smells!

It smelled of cloves, of cinnamon and oranges, of mulled wine and eggnog, of wood fires, and the evergreen of fir branches.

Christmas.

Caesar shivered again, but this time it was a shiver of anticipation. He liked Christmas, even though he had last celebrated it years ago as an adolescent chimp in the company of his foster family. He remembered it so well because he had been allowed to drink mulled wine for the first time. Or was it because the Christmas tree had burst into flames?

Anyway.

Caesar had never managed to really familiarize his apes with Christmas. Except for the fact that they hung lanterns in the treetops during the darkest winter nights and got hammered, the meaning of the holiday remained alien to them.

This year, however, was different. Everything was different this year.

By the time December 1st crawled onto the calendar, Malcolm had installed himself at Caesar's apartment door, bombarding the chimp with his idea of celebrating Christmas together with all the residents of the apartment tower.

“We survived a quarantine and an overly friendly Colonel this year. Might as well celebrate Christmas together. It will be marvelous, trust me!”

Such had been Malcolm's words, and Caesar couldn't help but feel inspired and fired up by the man's bubbly enthusiasm.

And now it was the 24th, and he and Malcolm were decorating the previously mentioned parlor on the 3rd floor so that everything would be ready in time.

In the background, a little bell jingled so cutely and lovely that Caesar's fur bristled in a pleasant wave. Surprised, he looked around, shaking the ladder he should have been holding tightly.

Malcolm gasped and clung on.

“Caesar!”

“Sorry. Heard little bells. Lovely sound, but from where?"

Malcolm chuckled.

“I'm sure it was just an angel getting its wings,” he replied nonchalantly.

Caesar stared at Malcolm as if he had just grown a pair of horns. The man laughed.

“Have you never watched the movie _It's a Wonderful Life?_ Quote: “Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings.” And now, please pass me the mistletoe, and we'll be done here.”

Without a word, Caesar handed him the tuft of greenery tied with a red ribbon. White berries shone like pearls through the green leaves and stems.

Malcolm tied the mistletoe to a large chandelier, just high enough above the ground that even a large gorilla would not run the risk of bumping into it.

“Done!” Malcolm exclaimed, took one last look at his handiwork - he had outdone himself! - and slid nimbly down the ladder.

Caesar, arms folded behind his back, watched the mistletoe slowly turning around itself.

He was curious.

“Why mistletoe?”

There had never been any mistletoes in the Rodman house during Christmas. And this looked like it was something special, it being the only mistletoe far and wide.

Malcolm pushed the ladder together with a grin.

“It's an ancient Christmas tradition. When two people meet under the mistletoe, they have to kiss.”

Caesar instinctively took a step back and Malcolm's smile froze. Curling his lips, he shouldered the ladder and left with a curt nod. Probably to set up more kissing traps somewhere else, Caesar suspected and sighed.

How quickly such a dainty, little Christmas decoration could turn into a minefield!

* * *

After the job was done, Caesar made himself comfortable in a wing chair in front of the fireplace. He deserved a break, and until the scouting party returned with the Christmas tree, he would pass the time with Dickens' _A Christmas Carol_. Wrapped in a blanket and with slippers on his feet, Caesar reveled in the festive atmosphere. He could grow used to the peace and quiet.

On cue, the little bell jingled again. It was the same lovely sound as before, and no matter how much Caesar resisted, he had to follow it.

“All right, all right. I'm coming!”

Sighing, he closed the book, struggled out of the comfort of the armchair, neatly folded the blanket, and shuffled outside. As he did so, the jingle danced before him like that insufferable fairy from that computer game Blue Eyes used to play, leading him down into the foyer.

Where the chimpanzee was presented with a sight for the gods (The tentacle kind): a herd of reindeer was blocking the foyer. How had they managed to get in through the revolving door? Who knew! But as far as Caesar's eyes could see, he saw nothing but antlers and fur. Here a reindeer nibbled at the carpet, there another licked at the decorations Malcolm had put up with so much love, while yet another had stuck its snout deep into an old boot. The rest lay around lazily, chewing … something, or had simply dozed off.

But that was only part one of this peculiar work of art. Part two was Luca, helplessly sandwiched between all the reindeer, clad in a red Santa hat and a big bushy white beard. He had a pillow stuffed under his bright red coat and a gunnysack stuffed with presents slung over his shoulders, clinging to it with both hands like a drowning man.

Caesar didn't know whether to laugh or scream.

“Luca... how...”

The brave leader of the Gorilla Guard immediately dropped the sack before a flurry of hand signs and panicked snorts washed over Caesar, nearly knocking him off his feet.

“Caesar! Help! Wanted to give the kids a treat and dressed up as Santa, but then the reindeer ambushed me. Couldn't shake them off, chased me all the way here, and now I can't get rid of them. H.E.L.P!”

Caesar raised his hands calmingly because, frankly, he didn't know how else to shield himself from Luca's torrent of signs. The gorilla fell silent. His little eyes glowed with so much trust in his _Alpha's_ abilities that Caesar had no choice but to take care of the reindeer problem himself.

“How hard can it be,” the chimp said to himself. After all, reindeer were nothing more than deer, and deer were usually on Caesar's menu, not in his foyer.

He slapped one of the animals - it must have sipped too much mulled wine because its nose was bright red - hard on the rear end, but the reindeer just stared at him out of bloodshot eyes and didn't move a step. Caesar pushed with all his might against the stubborn beast, but the result was the same.

Could he maybe lure the reindeer out with something to eat? What would a reindeer like anyway? Candy canes? Gingerbread? Mulled wine, obviously.

Caesar was still pondering when the door started to turn, pouring a group of hooded people into the foyer, along with the cold, who somehow managed to wrench an enormous Christmas tree into the foyer with them, turning it into a furry and vaguely pine-smelling can of sardines.

“Mmmphhht, mmmphhht, mmmphhht?!”

The hooded man in the vanguard impatiently yanked his scarf off.

"What the hell is going on here?!" snapped Colonel McCullough, pushing aside the reindeer that was nibbling at his military coat. It bleated offended and turned to the man behind McCullough instead, who at that moment pulled his hood down, too.

Beneath it, the face of Armando, the ringmaster, appeared. Caesar liked the man, even though they had hardly exchanged two sentences since they've met. There were people you liked right away and Armando was such a person. But why the ringmaster had let himself be talked into dragging the Christmas tree here, Caesar could only guess. Normally, he was always hard at work in his circus.

“Have reindeer problem. They followed Luca here,” Caesar explained curtly. The gorilla gave a feeble wave from amidst the herd and shrugged.

“Maybe they're looking for work,” Dreyfus grumbled. “Everyone and their dog needs reindeer at Christmas.”

“Or maybe they mistook Luca for Santa Claus.” Ellie set the Christmas tree down before taking off her gloves to blow into her hands.

“They can't stay here, but they sure are cute.” Preacher scratched the head of one of the animals.

“Bah, cute! The filthy beasts will toe the line by the time I'm done with them.”

The Colonel pulled his pistol from its holster and pointed it at the head of the nearest reindeer. He pulled the trigger. The hammer clicked, but nothing happened.

“Jammed. Damned cold!” McCullough cursed, holstering the gun. He completely ignored the horrified faces of the others. Instead, he pulled a small bottle of eggnog from his coat pocket and downed the yellowish, viscous beverage in one.

Armando cleared his throat.

“With your permission, Caesar, I'll try my luck.”

If only all people were as sincere and kind as Armando! Caesar nodded, whereupon the ringmaster quickly whistled three times. The reindeer raised their heads, ears perking up curiously.

“Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen, Rudolph. Follow me!”

To everyone's surprise, the reindeer neatly lined up in a row of two, with Red Nose in the lead, and obediently followed the ringmaster outside into the snow flurry.

Luca heaved a sigh of relief before removing his Santa Claus disguise. Better safe than sorry. He didn't want to risk encountering another herd of reindeer that couldn't distinguish between fiction and reality.

Then he slung the gunnysack over his shoulder, nodded gratefully at the crowd, and took the elevator upstairs.

In the silence that followed, a little bell jingled most sweetly and charmingly. Caesar shuddered and the Colonel frowned too.

“Now what's that annoying jangle?!”

“An angel gets wings,” Caesar declared in all seriousness.

McCullough stared at him, momentarily thrown off his stride.

“Bah, humbug!” he spat.

Then he shouldered the Christmas tree and, to general amazement, carried it up the stairs alone.

No one dared to remind him about the elevator, or that the parlor was on the third floor.

* * *

The fir tree, the Colonel managed to actually drag up to the 3rd floor without giving himself a hernia, was truly an exceptionally beautiful specimen. Grown straight, with dark green needles nestled tightly around the flexible branches with no shedding at all, it stood in the middle of the hall, shining as festively as Colonel McCullough's bald skull. The man had retreated to the sofa after his work was done, and was dual-wielding a new bottle of eggnog in one hand and a mug of mulled wine in the other. He sat there with his legs apart and watched the others with bloodshot eyes as they disfigured the magnificent fir tree with glitter and tin-foiled frippery.

But not all the grown-ups participated in this ever-so-important task of decorating the tree, oh no. Cornelia had left with Tinker and a handful of other females for one last foray into retail, something Caesar didn't envy her for.

Stores on December 24th were battlefields!

Only the bravest dared to venture there. Hopefully, Blue Eyes, Ash, and Lake would survive their baptism of fire without permanent damage. What had Cornelia said?

“Old enough. Must learn dealing with crowds!”

Cornelius, meanwhile, got to bake cookies for Santa with Rocket.

Dreyfus originally wanted to help decorating the tree as well, however, he made the fatal mistake of putting on _Last Christmas_ on the old-fashioned record player in the corner. Two synthetic beats later, the Colonel had unceremoniously thrown him out the door, record player included.

The decorators’ tasks were well distributed so that they didn't get in each other's way: Malcolm and Ellie hung ornaments, straw stars, and figurines on the branches, which soon bent under the load.

Caesar took it upon himself to put up the candy canes and chocolate ornaments. Sometimes, when no one was looking, the sweets went not on the tree but into his mouth.

Maurice swung from chandelier to chandelier, tossing tinsel from above onto the tree, which soon looked like a silver-haired hippie.

Preacher stood on top of the ladder and took on the upper tiers of the tree. The young soldier was so cheerfully whistling to himself as he worked that no one had the heart to call him out on his hideous sweater, which defied description.

“The tree is tilted!” a voice complained from the couch all of a sudden.

Caesar hastily gulped down the chocolate Santa before replying.

“Nonsense. You're just drunk.”

“Bullshit!” Colonel McCullough slurred, licking the last of the eggnog from the bottle.

Caesar rolled his eyes and decided to pay no further attention to the man.

Instead, his attention was drawn to the hall door, which opened at this moment. Rocket, holding a plate full of cookies in one hand and Cornelius on the other arm, stepped inside. Both chimps were grinning like Cheshire cats. Well, maybe it was the sugar shock talking because they had definitely eaten some of the cookies, judging from the cookie crumbs in their fur.

And then Cornelius spotted the Christmas tree.

The little chimp's pupils dilated. He squeaked, jumped off Rocket's arm, and flew toward the tree.

“Stop him!” roared Caesar as Cornelius catapulted himself off the ground and leaped, hooting, into the middle of the decorated Christmas tree before anyone could react. Crowing like a gremlin, he leaped from branch to branch, grabbing the candy canes and shoving them into his mouth in bunches. The tree wobbled and shook. Christmas tree ornaments lost their hold and shattered on the ground.

Preacher was the first to react. He jumped after Cornelius without thinking twice and promptly got lost in the fir's dense foliage.

“Help!” He screamed at the top of his lungs and kicked his legs. If Maurice, dangling from the chandelier, hadn't had the presence of mind to grab him by the ankle, the young man probably would have disappeared never to be seen again. Such a Christmas tree packed a punch!

Colonel McCullough, dead drunk and red-faced, roared with laughter on the couch until his bald skull glowed like a Christmas tree ornament when Cornelius abruptly shot out of the branches and grabbed the top of the tree. The tree leaned dangerously to one side, but then the little ape let go and was...

_Falling!_

Caesar threw himself forward and caught his youngest just before he made unpleasant contact with the floor. Screech-giggling, Cornelius snuggled into his arms and was asleep in the next moment. Knocked out by the blood-sugar-plunge. A candy cane stuck to his fur. Caesar took a deep breath. No more sugar for Cornelius, he vowed.

Maurice landed softly next to his _alpha_ and plucked the sleeping Cornelius from Caesar’s arms.

 _“Will put him to bed and watch over him,”_ he offered. Caesar just nodded, still too agitated to form a clear thought.

His fur bristled so suddenly that he wondered if he was in after shock from all the chocolate he'd been stuffing or the excitment, but then he heard the dulcit little bell that had been haunting him all day.

“Whenever a little bell rings, a pig learns to fly,” the Colonel slurred with a raised index finger, tripping Preacher, who had just made it to the couch with the last ounce of his strength.

Caesar had had enough. He needed fresh air!

* * *

After the heated chaos of the parlor, the freshness of the winter day settled on Caesar's lungs like a soothing balm. He took a deep breath and promptly had to cough. He wouldn't last long out here, he thought to himself as he tried to crawl deeper into his winter coat. He had pulled his hat so far down over his ears that he could barely see out from under it.

His breath hung like mist in front of his face as Caesar trudged through the snow-covered garden. But he looked for peace and quiet here in vain: Ape and human children alike were having snowball fights, building snowmen and igloos, or were racing down the small hill on their sleds, whooping with joy.

Not only the children had a lot of fun in the white splendor, but also some adults had ventured outside. Winter skated on the frozen pond and pirouetted very neatly until Red threw a snowball at his head.

Caesar sidled up to a small group of adults gathered around an ancient cast-iron stove on which they roasted chestnuts and cooked mulled wine. Buck made room for Caesar and Bad Ape handed him a mug of the warm beverage.

“Cheers,” Dreyfus clinked mugs with him.

Ah, he could stay here for a while, Caesar decided.

At one point, Nova stopped by to warm her numb fingers and get a hot chestnut from Bad Ape. Then she was off again to stuff snow down Alexander's neck.

The lovely little bell had to jingle twice this time before Caesar noticed it. The chimpanzee froze and tilted his head, listening. As before, he couldn't but follow the sound. Saying goodbye to the others, he followed the jingle through the garden, past the hedge, until he bumped into Koba in a lonely corner.

Who was in the act of kissing a snowcaesar.

Wonderful, the real Caesar thought to himself. Yet another scene that he had to drown in the swamp of his mind as quickly as possible. It was better for his nerves.

Of course, Koba noticed him at that very moment. His jaw dropped and he did the only logical thing in this mega-awkward situation for everyone involved: he bit off Snowcaesar's head.

“Something wrong?!” snapped Koba defiantly, as Caesar merely arched an eyebrow and sipped his mulled wine with an exaggeratedly loud slurp.

“Been tracking bell. Been hearing it jingle on and off all day, but don't know what it could be. Did Koba hear it too?”

“Angel. Get wings,” the bonobo replied in all earnest. “What, Caesar. Doesn't watch Christmas movies?”

Should he confess to Koba that he counted Christmas movies among the worst things mankind had ever invented? Caesar decided against the harsh truth when Koba bared his teeth. Shrugging, he asked instead, “Does Koba watch Christmas movies?”

“Of course! _Die Hard, Gremlins, Krampus._ ”

He went on to list a whole bunch of other movies that Caesar would never have put in the Christmas movie category, but an insane bonobo who kissed snowcaesars probably had a different understanding of Christmas movies than your average ape.

Caesar pretended to take another sip of mulled wine, even though the cup had long been emptied. He wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible while losing as little of his dignity as possible.

“Interesting movies. Sadly, have to go now. Looking for bell. If Koba finds it, please bring it to me,” Caesar awkwardly wiggled out of the affair. Koba grunted and let the chimp go without another word.

The chimp stomped around the hedge with his head held high, then dropped the cup, and ran on all fours back to the apartment as if Krampus himself were after him.

* * *

And so December 24th ticked slowly towards its end. Everything was prepared for Santa's nocturnal visit. The tree was decorated with whatever had been salvaged out of Cornelius’ raid, the presents were stacked underneath, the cookies arranged on a plate, and a glass of milk placed next to it.

Silence fell over the apartment tower. Outdoors, only a few snowflakes danced from the sky. It was perfect flying weather for Santa Claus.

Caesar, comfortably dozing in bed next to Cornelia - he was far too excited to sleep - was, all in all, pleased at how December 24th had turned out. He'd faced far worse holidays (he remembered Halloween with horror: the pumpkins and Preacher's exploding head).

Just as he was drifting off to sleep, the jingling of a little bell made him flinch. Lovely and sticky-sweet like cotton candy.

Wide awake now, Caesar stared at the ceiling above him. What was it about this little bell? Was there really an angel somewhere getting its little wings? In any case, there was something fishy going on here. Again, it jingled. And then again and again, as if someone was walking down the corridor outside, carrying bells and jingling with every step.

Caesar wanted to know what it was all about!

Carefully, so as not to wake Cornelia, he got out of bed, stepped into his slippers, and gently pushed open the apartment door. The hallway lay in semi-darkness before him, lit only by the emergency lighting. How strange, just when had the power gone out?

Before Caesar had a chance to try the light switch, he spotted a figure in the dim light ahead of him, tampering with Rocket's door.

It was as tall as it was wide, wore a red pointed hat, a big bushy white beard, and a bright red coat, obviously stuffed with a pillow. Now it pulled out a gift from its gunnysack and put it down in front of the door.

It took a load off Caesar's mind. He laughed softly.

“Luca! Do you need help?”

The shape flinched and rose to its feet. Strangely, it was much taller than Caesar had assumed. And it was still growing!

It grew and grew until its head hit the ceiling and its massive body filled the width of the corridor. Whoever it was, it wasn't Luca!

Instinctively, Caesar backed away.

Behind the white beard, two eyes burned like embers, but otherwise, there was nothing where there should have been a face...

The creature started to move toward Caesar. Each step a jingle, as lovely and tender as freshly fallen snow. A smell of candy canes, cinnamon, freshly-baked cookies, and pine needles emanated from the nocturnal visitor, which almost made Caesar's head spin.

“Ho-ho-ho,” laughed the creature deep in his chest, a sound as menacing as an avalanche and yet as sweet as toffee apples. In its all-powerful presence, it was both crushing and alluring, and it finally dawned on Caesar that there was no escape from this Christmas giant. Only with the utmost effort of will could he resist it, but did he even want to?

Caesar's will had long since drowned in gooey molasses, so this question was redundant.

Grinning blissfully, the chimp stared into hypnotically flickering eyes. Christmas would swallow him whole. Well, there were worse fates.

“Ho-ho-ho, motherfucker!” a familiar voice suddenly hissed, followed by the cocking of a gun.

The nocturnal visitor blinked in confusion at the pistol barrel before the shot rang out and the festive creature perished in a fountain of tinsel, glitter, and candy hearts. Black smoke rose, fleeing to the ceiling with a shrill laugh and disappearing into some cracks.

Silence fell.

Caesar, his ears ringing, clutched his head and blinked as if he had just awakened from a bad dream. He staggered and fortunately found support on the wall. Only then did he finally turn to look at the gunman.

Colonel McCullough blew the imaginary smoke from the muzzle of his pistol and holstered it.

“You're welcome, monkey,” the man growled before putting a cigarette between his lips, lighting it. The smell of cinnamon and candy gave way to that of cigarette smoke. Caesar coughed.

“What was that, thing?”

McCullough smirked.

“Don't tell me you didn't recognize him. That was the Mouse!”

The truth dawned upon Caesar.

“Mickey Mouse!”

“That's right. I've been lying in wait all December because I knew he couldn't resist Christmas.” He patted the gun on his hip. “Didn't reckon with me, though, that son of a bitch!”

Caesar coughed again and waved the smoke away with his hand.

“Maybe he just wanted to bring presents,” he pondered.

The Colonel snorted and puffed out the smoke through his nostrils.

“Please, don't be so naive! The Mouse's presents are nothing more than bait. No matter what he may promise, the Mouse will devour you whole if he feels like it. You need to pay more attention, monkey!”

McCullough casually saluted and marched down the aisle, humming a song that reminded Caesar strikingly of _O Christmas Tree_.

* * *

All that was left the next morning of the Mouse's visit was the phantom ringing of his little bells in Caesar's ears. The entire episode already felt like a dream, and who knew if it hadn't just been a dream?

And so, even the last remnants of anxiety disappeared like puffs of smoke when the alarm clock rang and Blue Eyes and Cornelius stormed the parental bedroom.

“Presents!” they yelled at the top of their lungs, causing Caesar to pull the covers over his head. To have peace and quiet for once, that was his Christmas wish! And a new coffee maker.

Fortunately for him, Cornelia was not so easily wrapped around their little finger.

“First have a wash, brush your teeth, and have breakfast,” she commanded with all the authority that parents possess on Christmas Day. When they finally got up from the breakfast table, however, there was no stopping the two young chimps. Cornelius unceremoniously jumped on Blue Eyes' back and clung to it, while his older brother barely managed to yank open the apartment door, then stormed down the hall and down the stairs into the parlor.

Cornelia rolled her eyes and then burst out laughing.

“We better go after them before Cornelius jumps back into the Christmas tree.”

From a distance, they could hear merry laughter, Christmas carols, and cheerful chatter. The hall was overflowing with visitors. Humans, gorillas, chimpanzees, orangutans, and bonobos flowed around the shining Christmas tree like a wonderfully colorful tapestry.

Caesar spotted Armando and Maurice signing about the commercial side of Christmas, hatching increasingly more revolutionary ideas ( _“Down with the presents!”_ ) with each sip of mulled wine.

When he checked on his sons, he saw them sitting under the fir tree, along with Ash, Lake, Alexander, and Nova, hooting cheerfully and digging through presents. Rocket and Tinker stood not far away, also watching the children and feeding each other an assorted selection of cookies.

In the background, Koba conducted a gorilla choir he had been practicing with all December before the snowcaesars intervened.

_Deck the hall with boughs of holly._

_Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!_

_‘Tis the season to be jolly._

_Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!_

_Don we now our gay apparel._

_Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!_

_Troll the ancient Yule-tide carol._

_Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!_

Caesar felt the catchy tune nesting in.

Cornelia took his hand and snuggled against him.

 _“Merry Christmas, my love,”_ she signed.

 _“Merry Christmas,”_ Caesar hugged her lovingly.

 _“One of the gifts under the tree is yours,”_ Cornelia continued.

_“Is it what I think it is?”_

She smiled mysteriously before looking for her youngest, who had got lost in the wrapping paper.

As he watched the crowd, Ceasar suddenly felt warm all over. It could only happen on Christmas Day that apes and humans celebrated so peacefully with each other.

He folded his arms behind his back and enjoyed the bustle and the warmth of this moment. A feeling welled up inside him that he sometimes thought he had forgotten: Caesar was happy.

“Caesar!” Will beckoned to him, who insisted on visiting with Caroline and Charles. Caesar waved back and was about to make his way to his father when the back of his neck began to prickle. Someone had him in their sights and it wasn't hard to guess who that someone was.

On the other side of the hall and facing Caesar, stood a very drunk Colonel McCullough, who was obviously surviving Christmas on nothing but eggnog and mulled wine. Like Preacher, he wore an abysmally ugly sweater (Caesar wondered if this was some sort of military ritual). Sunglasses rested on the tip of his nose, and his bald skull rivaled even the glow of the Christmas tree. He stared in Caesar's direction and at something above the chimp's head at the same time.

Suddenly he pulled himself together and staggered into motion, marched down the hall without bumping into anyone or ending up in the tree, and planted himself in front of Caesar.

Who stared skeptically at the human. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't thanked McCullough for saving him from the Mouse. An honest smile crossed the chimp's face.

“Merry Christm...” he began, realizing suddenly and way too late where he stood.

Under the mistletoe!

But the Colonel had already grabbed him by the lapels and smooched the panicked chimpanzee on the nose. That was all his eggnog-soaked brain could muster.

Caesar lunged out, his fist hitting the Colonel squarely under the chin and sending him crashing to the floor.

“Ho-ho-ho, motherfucker,” Caesar muttered dryly. And then he laughed hysterically and trotted over to greet Will and his family.

~Merry Christmas!~


End file.
